


Intentions

by cathalin



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Episode Tag, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-09-29
Updated: 2008-09-29
Packaged: 2017-10-20 22:47:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,468
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/217931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cathalin/pseuds/cathalin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ronon knows some truths.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Intentions

**Author's Note:**

> Episode tag to Tracker.

Ronon takes Rodney down effortlessly for the fourth time.

Rodney pants underneath him, "Jesus, I get it, I get it; lean _into_ an attacker. What, are you mad at me or something?"

For the space of three heartbeats, Ronon just stares down at him. Then he shakes his head.

Rodney moves to push up off the floor. His face is flushed and his hair mussed, eyes flashing, and for a second Ronon sees what Sheppard probably does.

Ronon sighs quietly. _Sheppard_.

 _Sheppard and McKay_.

Ronon's watched them for years now. That's what he does: he watches people. He'd always done it some, and then after Running for all those years, well.

Maybe he didn't do the right thing earlier today; he's not sure. He almost let McKay think he had a clear path to Keller. He'd figured it didn't matter, because it wasn't ever going to happen, not the way Rodney imagined it. But at the last minute, Ronon couldn't. He'd been thinking about Sheppard: maybe it'd be easier on John if he thought Rodney had local competition for Jennifer.

Ronon means to ease off Rodney's chest and offer him a hand up, but he finds himself letting his knee press a little harder.

Rodney flops back down on the mat. Ronon's face must show something, because Rodney yelps, "What! Is this the part where you fight me for Jennifer? I thought we, you know, gentlemen's agreement and all that?"

A surge of -- something -- causes Ronon's knee to grind a little.

"Ow! You _are_ mad at me!" Rodney crows breathlessly. Ronon has him pinned pretty hard.

"Yeah," Ronon growls, only realizing it's true as he says it. And he _is_ mad at Rodney, anger curling inside him in a way it hasn't for a while. Because the guy under his knee actually could make it happen: he could pursue Keller, win her over. He can see it, how it all would play out: a few months of bewildered happiness, followed by the slow incursion of doubt, of a feeling that something was missing. They're both decent people; they'd try, and try again, and keep trying. But they're not what either of them need. They're too much alike, yet different underneath. Rodney's not completely stupid, and he'd probably realize, too late, what the truth was. He'd be honorable, and stay, and that'd be three lives -- maybe even four, Ronon admits in a corner of his head -- pretty damn ruined.

Ronon watches people. He watches Sheppard most of all. Sheppard is--alone. People don't notice, because Sheppard is everyone's friend, and he masks it all with the ease of long practice. But John is alone in a way even Ronon isn't. John would do all the right things, say all the right things, toast the happy couple, but he'd sink into himself and never come out.

Underneath him, Rodney's eyes have widened. "You're admitting it! I knew it, you _are_ mad at me."

Ronon's kept most of his thoughts inside for years, but suddenly, words are slipping easily past his lips. "Not why you think." Ronon bites the inside of his mouth. Hells, what is wrong with him?

Rodney blinks up at him, shoves futilely at Ronon's knee. "Do you mind? Trying to breathe here! And what do you mean?"

Ronon's stomach roils. He can't say it. It's not his to tell. He wishes Teyla were here; she is wise in how to say things, fix things. "Nothing."

Rodney stops squirming and peers at Ronon intently now. "Not nothing, it was something. What is it?"

Ronon shakes his head, eases off Rodney. "Nothing." It's not his secret; he learned a long time ago that interfering doesn't work. He can't look at Rodney, and he can't even think about Sheppard. Ronon flexes his muscles to rise.

"No!" Rodney says, grabbing Ronon's arm, grip surprisingly strong. "I want to know. What you meant. If you're not mad at me about Keller, then what? I mean, you're used to my talking, and hypochondria, and swooping in and saving the day."

Usually Rodney's so oblivious to people, but once in a while he focuses, and then he won't let things go. Ronon's seen it; there's not a straightforward way out of this.

He can lie. He usually doesn't do that. But he can if he has to. He'll make something up, something plausible. He opens his mouth to say something about Jennifer after all. Instead, he says, "Sheppard." He closes his eyes, because he didn't mean to say it; apparently he's even angrier than he realized.

"Sheppard, what?" Rodney says, pure bewilderment in his voice, on his face.

Ronon's knees creak as he stands. He offers a hand to Rodney. "Forget it."

"No," Rodney says quietly into Ronon's face once he's upright. "You say a word about once every Geologic Age. So if you say a word, it means something." Rodney's doing that thing he does occasionally, where he stops babbling.

Ronon shakes off Rodney's hand. "Not mine to tell," he manages, and gets three strides towards the door.

"Now wait just a minute!" Rodney yells. "You can't just drop something like that, something _important_ , and then not follow it up. I deserve to know why you're mad at me. I really consider you, actually, well, a friend?"

Ronon knows that about Rodney, and it warms him, because he doesn't have many people who'd do anything for him, and he thinks Rodney would. Ronon figured out a while ago that the reverse is true as well: for reasons he doesn't completely understand, he'd do most anything for Rodney.

Ronon stops but doesn't turn.

Rodney advances on him from behind. "You said, 'Sheppard,' so something about John. He--. Wait, does he want Keller, too?"

The next thing Ronon knows, he's got Rodney pinned by the arms up against the wall, and he's saying, low and threatening, "No! Idiot. _Sheppard_. Stop talking and _look_ for a change!" Rodney's eyes are huge, and he's panting.

Ronon forces his fingers to relax, uncurl a little.

Rodney's forehead wrinkles, and he looks straight into Ronon's eyes, head tilted up. "Look." Rodney's eyes narrow. "That's what you do. Look. Watch people."

Ronon is silent.

"Something about Sheppard..."

Ronon sees it when Rodney gets it; dread turns Ronon's mouth dry. Rodney's eyes widen, and his hands reach for Ronon, like something's driving him to touch. Rodney's hands curl loosely around Ronon's wrists; Ronon's hands are still grasping Rodney's arms. "John." Rodney swallows visibly. He whispers, voice full of something completely different than his normal bluster. "Me?"

Ronon feels pinned by Rodney's sincerity; hopeless in the face of honest emotion. He doesn't nod, but tilts his head just a fraction. Kills him to do it, because Sheppard will never forgive him, never, but it'd be cruel not to now.

"Really? But--. What. How long? Are you sure? Did he say something to you?" Rodney's voice rises, and he grips Ronon's wrists tighter now.

"No," Ronon says, pulling out of Rodney's grasp. "Said too much already."

Rodney's eyes narrow. "Wait a minute. Are you just saying this to get me off the Keller thing? Because I'll have you know, I'm not--"

A sound rises up and out of Ronon, probably akin to a growl, and Rodney pales a little. "Okay, no, I know, you're too honorable, Satedan whatever, warrior principles, blah blah blah, you wouldn't do something like that, you're right. But it's just. It always seemed. Well, it's _John_."

Ronon just looks at Rodney.

Rodney looks down at the floor. "And even if--It doesn't even make sense. I mean, I'm not getting any younger. And, well, it's natural, you know? Even Teyla's got one now. It's part of the human, uh, desire to--It makes people happy, my sister's really smart and she's happy, and I think I deserve--"

"Makes people happy," Ronon repeats, keeping his tone as neutral as he can.

Rodney lifts his chin a little in Ronon's direction. "What! Look, I need children, a wife. You know." Rodney looks scared now, but it's not fear of Ronon, it's of something else.

Ronon can't help it; he shakes Rodney a little. "What you tell yourself. There are ways, other ways, to get children, _if_ that's what you want, not," Ronon has to take a deep breath, "not picking a woman, some woman, because she matches things on your, your _list_ , because you think you have to."

Rodney shakes his head. "It wouldn't be that, I mean, I care for her. I, I love her."

Ronon takes a breath, tries to choose his words wisely. He's come this far; he owes Rodney his best now. "Of course you do. She's your friend. You're both smart. But that's not what it's supposed to be."

"Oh, and tell me, Mr. Love Guru, what is it _supposed_ to be?" Rodney's got his arms crossed now, in the posture Ronon associates with false bravado.

Ronon feels his expression grow soft against his will; he can't help it when he thinks of Melena. "Someone you can be yourself with, laugh with. Someone--" Ronon tries to stop the memories, but they rise up and want to come out. "Someone you play with. Someone you stay under the covers with on a rainy day, telling stories about when you were kids." He feels his lips curl up on other memories, memories that chase the first and warm him. "Or doing other things."

Rodney's staring at him wide-eyed, but Ronon keeps going. "The first person you look for to share good things with." He can't believe he's telling all of this to Rodney; he never speaks of Melena.

Rodney opens his mouth to talk, but Ronon has one more thing to say. "Someone you call out to when you're sick or hurting or alone."

Something flashes in Rodney's eyes; Ronon thinks, _good_ , let him feel shame, because he's let fear make him blind. He knows for a fact that Rodney remembers who he called for during the Second Childhood.

"But. There's no way he--That's impossible."

"What's impossible, guys?" John's voice cuts sharp into the practice room from the door. Sheppard is lounging there; Ronon _thinks_ he just arrived. He hopes so.

Rodney stiffens under Ronon's hands and turns his head slowly towards Sheppard. Ronon swallows, then carefully extricates himself from Rodney, bends to gather his things.

"What's going on?" John asks, advancing on them. "Everything okay?"

Rodney doesn't respond; he's totally quiet, something that is so out of character that Ronon cringes harder inside. There is no way John won't pick up on the fact that--

"Rodney, Jesus, what's wrong?" Sheppard's a few feet from Rodney now, and Rodney's just staring at him, still not saying anything.

"Ronon?" John's looking hard at Ronon now, clearly getting worried.

"He's fine," Ronon says quickly. "It's nothing."

John's obviously not buying it, but he nods a little. "Okay. I was just going to tell you that the new season of The Office came." He's looking at Rodney, who's looking everywhere but at John. "Was gonna see if you wanted to come watch it? But I'll just--"

"Sure," Rodney says, voice tight. "Or, no, actually. I can't, I. I have work, stuff." He shuts his mouth and scrubs at his face. "Sorry, sorry, I'm fine, I just--"

John's moved closer to Rodney now, hands clenched at his sides, obviously fighting the urge to reach out to him.

Ronon stuffs his sweatshirt into his duffel and tries to fade into the background. He analyzes his position, plans an escape route to the door.

"I. I don't know what to think. That is--" Rodney's obviously troubled, voice tight and high, forehead wrinkled, posture radiating distress. Ronon's never gotten used to that, how Rodney shows his feelings so openly.

John darts an almost-angry glance at Ronon. "There _is_ something wrong. Something about, uh, Jennifer, right? Guys, listen, you can't do this, we can't have this on the team, you have to work it out." Ronon's chest hurts watching Sheppard say the name, "Jennifer."

Rodney starts to speak, turns it into a cough, stares at the ground.

John touches Rodney now, hand resting lightly on his shoulder. "Look, it'll work out, buddy. Come on, let's talk it through with him right now." He nods in Ronon's direction. If Ronon didn't know better, it'd be the perfect imitation of a good friend, concerned about his buddy. Maybe Sheppard uses that word on purpose, a shield over what's underneath. If you call someone a buddy, maybe the world will believe that's all you feel.

"No. No, really, that's not necessary, it's not that, that's all fine, we talked already and--"

Now Sheppard looks even more worried. His grip has tightened and he's searching Rodney's downturned face. Ronon rises from his crouch and steps toward the door.

"Don't go!" Rodney's voice, panicky. "Uh," he continues as both John and Ronon stare at him. "I mean, I'm leaving, too."

John's face turns stormy. "Okay, now I'm worried. No. No way you're leaving until you two tell me what's going on." He crosses his arms over his chest. Ronon sees Rodney flick his eyes over Sheppard's torso, and there's a definite spark of interest, one Ronon hasn't seen there for a while.

"Okay, fine!" Rodney huffs. "Fine. It's been pointed out to me that my, uh, attempts to uh, date Keller, might not be something you appreciate."

Ronon's stomach drops at the look John shoots him quickly under his eyelashes. He doesn't blame him; he may have ruined not just one, but two friendships today.

"Why would I care about that?" John says, anger lacing his voice with venom, eyes hot and wounded on Ronon.

Rodney peers speculatively into John's face. "I don't know," Rodney says softly.

John's even closer to Rodney now, hand still on his shoulder. He's biting his lower lip now, though, and he looks at the floor.

Rodney tips his head a little to the side, moves his body fractionally closer to John's. "John?" Rodney's voice is gentle. "If you didn't. If you theoretically didn't appreciate my, uh. I thought you weren't--.So I didn't..."

Sheppard looks up, but doesn't look at Rodney. "No," he mumbles. "You got the wrong idea. I'll lay off. Just. Silly, wanting to hang out with you, you know." He extricates himself and heads for the door. Ronon can see spots of color burning high on John's cheekbones. Ronon's chest feels tight.

"Oh. A friend thing. Of course," Rodney says.

John nods on his way out the door and suddenly Ronon is seized with an impulse so strong he knows he's going to give in; it's as strong as the one that sent him into Melena's _krastis_ late one night with the traditional orange _peschut_ -flower, as strong as the one that made him trust Sheppard though he'd been Running for seven years. But somehow he doubts that following this impulse will turn out to be as wise as following those had been.

 _Mistake, mistake_ , his brain is screaming, but hell, he's already interfered once today; might as well go out with a bang. "Stupid!" he says, loud enough to stop them both in their tracks, make them both turn and stare at him.

He feels a little breathless. But then he figures, since he's got one last shot, he might as well make it a good one. He tries to figure out what to say, how to show them what he sees, what he knows. He takes a deep breath. "Your planet. Earth. The way people are there." He gestures at both of them. "Earth made you this way, but you're better than this. Both of you."

John and Rodney goggle at him, probably because he rarely says so many words. People always seem to forget that just because he doesn't say things, it doesn't mean he doesn't think them. He figures, why not, so he says, "He," and nods at John, "and you," and nods at Rodney.

"You," he says again, looking straight at Rodney. "You asked me, before, about my intentions. You and him," he waves a hand in John's direction, "you should talk about that. Your intentions. You should both stop lying."

Sheppard and McKay each look at the floor. _Fine_ , Ronon thinks, throat thick with sadness. You can lead a _dramalsk_ to salt, but you can't make it lick. It's hopeless, anyway. He starts to turn toward the door. He'll try to somehow repair the damage he's caused today; if he can't, he'll live with the consequences. Sheppard's a professional; they probably can figure out a way to work together. And if not, well, wouldn't be the first time he's had to move on, though the thought twists something hard and tight in his gut.

Rodney breaks the silence. He coughs, tilts his chin up, with the look he gets once in a while before he's going to do something shockingly courageous. "I. Intentions, that's like, what you're going to do. Not, what you want. What you want most. It doesn't necessarily mean that."

Ronon narrows his eyes and looks at Rodney. He thinks Rodney just did something really brave; he's pretty sure of it. He says softly, carefully, "Then what's the word for that, the word that means, the thing you want?"

There is silence and he's going to turn on his heels in disgust, leave them to their unhappiness.

Then John says softly, "Wants?"

"Desires?" Rodney's voice, equally soft.

"Wishes, dreams," John adds, staring straight at Rodney now.

"Hopes, impossible hopes," Rodney says into Sheppard's face. Rodney swallows visibly. "John? You...?"

There's more silence.

"I mean, I. That is, if you--"

"I. Sometimes--It's kind of," John whispers to the floor.

"I've thought, I've." Rodney says, taking a step towards John. "I just didn't think you-- So I went the other direction."

"I didn't think you..." John murmurs back.

"I'm so stupid," Rodney whispers. "So, so stupid, and I never say that, because, well, obvious reasons, but I didn't, I don't, I'm--"

"Shh," John says, reaching hands to clasp gently around Rodney's arms.

"Right," Rodney says softly, leaning ever-so-slightly towards John. "Yes."

Ronon turns away and finally, for real, heads to the door.

He can't stop himself from turning around and looking one last time. Rodney's got his hands around Sheppard's shoulders, and he's pulling him toward him. They both look wrecked; John's face is serious now, stripped of the masks he wears. Rodney looks like he wants to cry, like some unexpected gift has been laid in front of him. They lean towards each other, pulled simultaneously in, and their foreheads end up touching; they're just breathing there.

When Rodney had asked Ronon his intentions towards Keller, Ronon had been incredulous at first. Is this how Earth people did it, he wondered: formulated an intention, laid out a path ahead of time? It seemed like a barren concept, lacking spontaneity and the joy of discovery as you went. It seemed like tempting fate, like hubris, thinking you could will a map for the future into reality. Not to mention, laughably devoid of attention to what Jennifer herself might have to say.

But he sees now that Rodney had to talk that way. He could ask Ronon about his intentions and talk about his own. The thing he couldn't talk about was the deepest longings of his heart, stupidly put away some time ago.

Ronon smiles and he feels his own heart twist a little, remembering his lost love; they'd danced around each other for a long time, too.

He'd told Rodney he had intentions towards Keller, but he shakes his head now, discarding that foreign concept as worse than useless. He's got no intentions. But he does have the stirrings of some hopes. Wishes, wants, desires, dreams.

He has wishes and hopes for Sheppard and McKay, too. He wishes for John not to be so alone. He wishes for Rodney to have someone who brings out the best he can be, the Rodney Ronon's seeing more and more of these days. The Rodney he saw here tonight.

Ronon hears the low murmur of voices behind him, then silence. He has to turn to do his last task, so he sees them one more time. It's just a hug, but they're holding each other like--Yeah, they're going to be okay.

Ronon walks away from the workout room; he's keyed the display to show that the occupants shouldn't be disturbed. He notes that the nearby corridors are deserted anyway. No need to stand watch, he thinks; he's sure they won't be there long.

Ronon whistles as he heads to his quarters. Maybe, he decides, he'll pay a visit to Jennifer on his way, let her know somehow that he's got no intentions.

Only hopes.


End file.
